Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz
by Myths and Madness
Summary: As Oscar Diggs plays the role of the great Wizard of Oz, Kansas has seen ten years pass by. Now it's time for one very special little girl to start her journey, and heal the wounds left by the Wizard's greatest failure.
1. Teaser

**Disclaimer: _The Land of Oz_ novel series is credited to L. Frank Baum, _The Wizard of Oz_ film belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios, and _Oz: The Great and Powerful_ belongs to Disney. This story is an ****amalgamation and retelling of the first two, but mostly, a sequel to the latter.**

* * *

Prologue/Teaser

For the longest time, Dorothy Matilda Gale had been told that she was odd.

The first time she had heard it was on her fourth birthday, and it was Dorothy's mother, Mrs. Annie Gale, who said it. It had likely been meant as a joke, given that she had been wearing a smile at the time, but this made little Dorothy wonder; Was she really odd, and if so, why? It certainly could not be for her brown eyes, dimpled cheeks, or her tousled brown hair, because other people had at least one of those features too, and she braided her hair into manageable pigtails anyway.

The next person who told Dorothy she was odd was the wife of her father's brother, Emily Gale, who Dorothy simply called Auntie Em. When her then six year-old niece asked what it was about herself that made her an "odd little one," the older woman explained that it was Dorothy's habit of talking to animals as if they were people. Jeff Wright, the son of a neighbor, agreed that this trait was a curious one, but he promised this made Dorothy "one of a kind," not odd. Uncle Henry, who was the older brother of Dorothy's father, told her that Jeff was too simple a young man to tell fibs, so this made Dorothy feel better about being different.

Unfortunately, when school started last autumn, Walt Phillpotts had called her an odd duckling because she preferred reading a storybook over playing tag with the other children, stared deeply into empty air for long whiles, and because she loved peanut butter and honey sandwiches, but hated peanut butter and jam. Now it was spring of the new year, and although most everyone was nice to her, Dorothy no longer felt that her being different was a very good thing.

* * *

**I update by reviews. If I get two or three, you'll get the next chapter.**


	2. Poor unlucky Dorothy's day

**I had wanted to write a longer chapter, but my desire for a late Easter special won out so here is the first real chapter of _Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz_. A fair warning to everybody: I'm Canadian, and I was raised on British television, so my American English is weak, but I tried.**

**I want to personally thank kuramaangel, for my first review of a story ever. It meant a lot to me.**

* * *

Poor unlucky Dorothy's day

_Southern Kansas, April 1915_

After two weeks of bitter rain, the clouds in the sky had barely cleared for a grim grey-blue, and, as if the day wasn't dismal enough, the winds were blowing with all their might. While Dorothy was looking out the window of the schoolhouse, watching the various things being carried away by the wind, Mr. Schmitt was teaching his class about history. Dorothy had lost track of which period he was talking about, but there was a portrait of President Washington upon the blackboard.

"Alright, children, that's it for today," the schoolmaster said. He was a tall, wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair, and he always spoke as if he had a frog in his throat, which could make it quite a chore to sit and listen to him by the hour. "But before anybody flies out the door, it's time for the May Fair draw."

Hearing this, every girl (besides Dorothy) gasped and leaned forward in anticipation. Mr. Schmitt hobbled to his desk, supported by an antique walking stick, and he picked up an old coffee can. Yesterday, the tin can had been filled with slips of old newspaper with the student's names written on them. Whoever's name Mr. Schmitt took out of the can, would sing a solo in the school's show next week, at the county fair.

"Now, who shall it be?" Mr. Schmitt said as he reached into the can.

As his hand mixed the names, Louise Lyman clasped her hands in prayer, and Ginny Nussbaum crossed her eyes and eight of her fingers. Dorothy, instead, grimaced and tried to hide behind her desk. Her name had been submitted to make the draw fair. Not only did the thought of singing in front of everyone within miles scare the living daylights out of the girl, but the county fair was opening on her birthday, and getting sick with stage fright in front of family and neighbors could not make for a good tenth birthday.

Finally, Mr Schmitt pulled out a slip of newspaper. "And the winner is..."

Suddenly, a mighty gust of wind forced a window open. The children screamed. Mr. Schmitt, in trying to save his footing, dropped the tin can, and the newspaper pieces fluttered around the room like funny-looking snow.

"Blast it!" cursed Mr. Schmitt. "Someone, get the window! Everybody else, catch the paper!"

The two biggest boys in the class, Georgie Brooks and Raymond Fitzroy, ran to secure the window, while everyone else picked a slip and chased after it. Some were jumping up and down, others were bumping into desks or each other, but eventually, every name was caught and returned to the can. "Thank you, children," Mr. Schmitt said through his gasps for breath. "Now, you will sit down, and pretend that little bit of mayhem didn't happen."

Dorothy fell back into her chair gracelessly. Her heart was still pounding, like the window that continued to fight to keep the wind out of doors.

_The winds sound like they're angry_, thought Dorothy. _What would the wind get upset with? Maybe it's just playing tag. _With the idea of playful winds, Dorothy started to wonder what it would be like to fly._ It must be nice, like floating. But not on a day like this. This is more like riding a wild horse. I hope it's not like this for my birthday. It can't be._

"Miss Dorothy Gale?" called Mr. Schmitt. Leaping out of her thoughts, Dorothy answered the teacher with a clumsy, "Yeah, um, y-yes, Mr. Schmitt?" The schoolmaster was, ironically, very fussy about elocution. To Dorothy's surprise, Mr. Schmitt had a strange expression. He was making the kind of face a person makes when they try to keep it straight, but fail to. This made Dorothy nervous, because her schoolmaster usually wore nothing besides a straight face.

"Miss Gale," Mr. Schmitt said, as he held up a slip of newspaper for her to see. "You won."

Before she could stop herself, Dorothy shot out of seat. "What!? No!"

Mr. Schmitt glared at her outburst. "Miss Gale, sit down and do not raise your voice," he ordered.

Feeling embarrassed as well as unnerved, Dorothy slowly sat down. She heard her schoolmates whispering exactly about what she was thinking. This was a mistake. It had to be. How could the class dreamer, who did the absolute worst in diction lessons, sing at the May Fair?

"Class in dismissed, children," Mr. Schmitt said. The students needed no further words. Every boy and girl dashed for their hats, coats, bags and pails, all which hung on a line of hooks. Everyone but Dorothy was out the door in seconds. Instead, the girl nervously walked to Mr. Schmitt's desk.

"Class is dismissed, Miss Gale," the schoolmaster said without looking up from the blackboard he was cleaning. "Mr. Schmitt, can, er, _may_ you-" Dorothy tried to say, but Mr. Schmitt stopped her with a curt, "No, I cannot, Miss Gale."

Dorothy felt her stomach drop. "But you don't know what I was gonna say."

Mr. Schmitt turned to face his student. "What you were _going to ask_," he enunciated, "is if I may do the draw over. I cannot. It wouldn't be fair to your classmates."

When Dorothy opened her mouth, the schoolmaster again cut her off. "Run along home now, Miss Gale. Remember, practice makes perfect."

With no strength to argue, Dorothy curtsied and whispered, "Yes, Mr. Schmitt. Good Afternoon, Mr. Schmitt." She had wanted to speak up, but couldn't. The girl took her sun hat and book bag off her hook, and walked to the door. She would have walked out, but the door decided it didn't want to open for her.

"Not again," sighed Mr. Schmitt. He reached under his desk, and pulled out an oil can. With a few squirts on the hinges, and a good yank, the door opened. "If only it were this easy for a lame knee," he mused as Dorothy walked out the door.

Outside, Dorothy was immediately grateful for her sun hat's drawstring, as the winds blew it off her head and down her back. Auntie Em, a master of needlework, had sewn the drawstring into her niece's hat for windy days and sprinting. She had also made Dorothy's book bag from an old flour sack. Despite seeing it everyday, it amazed Dorothy how her aunt could do so much with so little.

As the girl started down the dirt road, she was surprised to see a little black dot coming at her. A squeaky "Arf! Arf!" made Dorothy realize it was her beloved cairn terrier, Toto.

"Toto! What are you doin' here?"

Rather than stop for a pat on the head, the excited puppy leaped straight onto his mistress' front. "Toto, don't!" Dorothy ordered, but it was too late. Muddy paw prints dotted her school pinafore, and the hem of her gingham dress.

"Oh, Toto," she groaned. The terrier only barked happily and chased his tail, making Dorothy laugh. It really was impossible to stay mad at her best friend. "Alright, I forgive you, but I bet Auntie Em won't."

The road was, like the surrounding prairies, brown, dusty and seemed to go on forever. During the times Dorothy traveled, mostly to school or to town with Auntie Em, it was on roads that went north, west or east, but never on the one road that went south. Jeff Wright had told Dorothy that there was only one road in the direction because, "if ya tried to go any more south than this neck of the state, you'd hit Oklahoma." To make the trip home more pleasant, Dorothy told her Toto about her day at school. Especially about the results of the May Fair draw.

"Can you believe it, Toto?" she asked. "Me, sing at the fair?"

Toto whined and looked up at his mistress. With his big dark eyes, Dorothy thought Toto looked almost sympathetic. "Yeah, maybe it won't be that bad," she said. "It's just a verse, right?" Dorothy cleared her throat the way she had seen adults do, and started to sing.

"_O beautiful for patriot dream/That sees beyond the years/Thine a' plaster__–_"Dorothy cringed at her mistake. "Oh, alabaster! Alabaster," she scolded herself. She tried again, but then her, "sees," sounded like a shriek. Try as Dorothy did, she found something wrong with her singing every time. "Why couldn't Mr. Schmitt pick someone else besides me?" the distressed girl sighed.

After walking for a while, Dorothy and Toto reached the landmark that told them they were almost home: A grand house, with a garden and an iron fence, that seemed out of place on the prairie. This house belonged to the richest woman in the county, Almira Gulch. Despite having the money to do anything at least once, Gulch was bitter and snobby, and had no friends besides her spoiled Siamese cat, Miss Lotta.

As Dorothy thought of that nasty cat, she was surprised to see Miss Lotta on the other side of the fence. Toto started barking his head off at the sight of his rival, while Miss Lotta only spat and turned her backside to him. Unfortunately, that slight induced Toto to get even. The little dog ran for the fence, and started digging his way under it!

"Toto, stop!" Dorothy called. "She's not worth it!" The girl dove for her puppy, landing on her belly, but Toto had already squeezed under the fence and given chase to Miss Lotta.

Dorothy knew she had to think fast. She could either run home and get Uncle Henry and Auntie Em, or go after Toto now, and hope Gulch didn't catch them. When the sound of yapping and mewling rang out, Dorothy made her choice. The girl stood back up, put down her book bag, and climbed up the fence. Thankfully, the prongs of the fence were dulled by little iron balls on top, so Dorothy did not risk impalement. Regrettably, as with climbing trees, getting up was much easier than getting down. Once she jumped the fence, Dorothy fell on her backside.

After shaking dizziness out of her head and getting up again, Dorothy inspected her clothes. There was a large rip in her woolen stockings._ Oh, no, a dirty pinafore AND torn stockings_, she thought. _What is Auntie Em gonna say?_

Dorothy followed the sound of Toto's barking to the backyard. From around the house's corner, she saw the terrier puppy had chased Miss Lotta up a willow tree. "Toto, come here!" Dorothy hissed, but Toto didn't seem to notice. With no other option in sight, Dorothy slowly made her way towards Toto. Suddenly, a voice made her heart skip a beat or three.

"What's going on out there?"

Dorothy froze and turned to look at the opposite corner of the house. _Move! Run!_ her mind screamed, but her legs didn't listen. With pure terror, Dorothy watched Almira Gulch, holding a broom, appear around the corner.

When Dorothy had first seen Gulch years ago, the girl had thought that she had a certain prettiness, with her raven hair and clear green eyes, and even assumed that she had once been beautiful as a younger woman. However, Dorothy had lost all such notions after knowing Gulch for five minutes. The woman's hair was always in a tight bun that Dorothy was sure was stretching her face's skin, and she always wore an ugly scowl, as if everything in the world simply disgusted her. Upon seeing Dorothy and her little dog in her yard, however, the crotchety woman's eyes widened with shock.

"Dorothy Gale! I might have known!" she screamed.

Finally, Dorothy's legs started to move, and she ran toward Toto. Unfortunately, Gulch did so as well, and despite her fancy high-heeled boots, she was much quicker then the girl. The woman aimed her broom to take a swing to the pup that was menacing her cat. The sight of this cause Dorothy to lose the strength to run.

"Miss Gulch, don't, please!" shouted Dorothy.

This outburst served no purpose, unluckily, as Toto quickly dodged Gulch's attack. This was unlucky because when the terrier moved, it was so he could bite his assailant in the ankle! Gulch let out an earsplitting squeal and fell to the ground. Toto raced for Dorothy, who caught the puppy and held him close. With her beloved dog returned, the girl ran for the fence. A voice in her head said it was wrong to run away from Gulch like this, but it was muffled by another voice that told her to run home at once.

When Dorothy reached the fence, she dropped Toto on the other side, and climbed over it again. Then she grabbed her book bag, and started to hurry home. In the distance, however, Dorothy heard Gulch, shouting threats. "I saw you, Dorothy Gale! I know where you live! I'll be back with the sheriff, mark my words!"

And, worst of all, Dorothy knew that nasty woman meant every word.

* * *

**I hope everyone enjoyed this. Next time, we will meet the Gales and this Jeff Wright that keeps coming up. Again, I will update if I get reviews.**


	3. Down on the Farm

**Sorry this took so long. I was held captive by some writer's block and a literature essay, but here is the second ****chapter of _Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz_, Down on the Farm, or more accurately, Foreshadowing galore. I hope everyone likes it, and nobody is offended by how I write southern accents. I act out the scenes, then write what I hear.**

**Thank you, rosie0522, for you kind words.**

**Just for fun, can anyone figure out why I chose Dorothy's middle name? Kudos if you can! **

* * *

Down on the Farm

By the time the Gales' farm entered her sights, Dorothy was thoroughly out of breath.

"Is she comin', Toto?" the girl asked her dog. She turned to the opposite direction. There was no sign of Gulch. Not yet.

"She'll be here soon. With Sheriff Kingsley." Dorothy shivered at the thought, because she knew Gulch was going to bring the sheriff. Even if she needed to drag him by the collar.

"C'mon, Toto," said Dorothy. "We'll tell Uncle Henry n' Auntie Em. They'll know what to do."

The Gale family, Henry, Em, and Dorothy, lived on an egg farm that had been in Auntie Em's family since the 1850s. Besides the Gales, the farm was home to many chickens, a mother cow and her calf, and a hinny named Holly even though he was a boy. There was a barn for the animals, an old farmhouse that was too big for a family of three and one dog, and it was surrounded by a new wire fence that looked old and shabby. After passing through the wooden gate, Dorothy sprinted off to the farmhouse, Toto scrambling after.

From inside the doorway, Dorothy called, "Uncle Henry, Auntie Em? Are you here?" The voice of an older woman, Auntie Em, answered, "In the kitchen, Dorothy dear!"

Dorothy held the door open for Toto to run through, and let the wind shut it behind her. Then she took off her hat and book bag, and hung them on the coat stand.

On the inside, the farmhouse had discolored walls and dark, wooden floors. Both creaked terribly (today more than usual,) but Dorothy had adjusted to the noise by now. Even if you were a stranger to this house, you would know instantly that an older couple lived there. For example, in the small parlor was a case full of elegant china figurines Auntie Em had collected since she was Dorothy's age, and hanging on the wall was a framed portrait of Abraham Lincoln, who Uncle Henry held as "a hero of the simple folk." All through the house, there were odd and ends that chronicled the lives and characters of Henry and Em Gale, and even Toto had made little bite marks in the sofa legs when he was two months old. However, aside from Dorothy's bedroom upstairs, there was no sign that a little girl lived here.

Across from the parlor was the kitchen, where Dorothy found her Aunt and Uncle. As Auntie Em was taking a pie out of the oven, Dorothy went to talk to Uncle Henry first. He was sitting at the small table, drinking black coffee, and judging by the salty odor of sweat in the room, the farmer had just got home from working in the fields.

"Uncle Henry!" Dorothy exclaimed. "You just won't believe what happened!" Uncle Henry raised his hand, to tell his niece to calm down, but Dorothy didn't notice. "Me n' Toto were out walkin' – of course, I didn't take him to school. I'd never do that again. – but then Miss Gulch's nasty ol' cat–"

Auntie Em, who had just set the pie down on the window sill, sighed. "Dorothy," the farmer's wife interrupted. "Can't you see that your uncle is–" She turned around to face the girl, but stopped to gasp at the sight of her. "Dorothy Matilda Gale! What have you done to your clothes?"

Dorothy looked down at her dirty pinafore, embarrassed. "Well, Toto came runnin'–"

Auntie Em didn't let her finish. "Oh, your precious puppy again, was it?" she exclaimed. The woman glared at Toto, who was standing next to his mistress, and wagged her finger. "I'll think on what to do with you later. And you." She turned back to Dorothy. "You go put that pinafore outside, in the wash tub."

"But Auntie Em," said Dorothy. "I have to tell y'all about Miss Gulch."

"You can tell us after you put that in the wash." Auntie Em nudged Dorothy out of the kitchen. "And don't forget to wet it."

"Yes'm," muttered Dorothy.

Dorothy took off her pinafore, and went outside with Toto. Between the farmhouse and the barn, there was a wooden tub, currently full of bedclothes, next to a slightly rusty water pump. Dorothy threw her pinafore in the tub, and tried to pick it up. When it proved too heavy, the girl groaned and pushed the tub under the pump instead.

Suddenly, Dorothy felt a pain in her foot. She sat on the edge of the tub to take of her boot, and three pebbles fell out. The girl sighed. _These boots are gonna just fall off my feet someday_, she thought. _But it's either new shoes or food, and an empty belly's worse than steppin' on a rock._

After Dorothy put her boot back on, she started to pump water into the tub. Then a familiar voice coming from the barn made her stop. It was shouting, "C'mon, Bessie! I get enough o' this from them chickenpox!" Dorothy smiled. The voice undoubtably belonged to Jeff Wright, the Gales' most, and at the same time least, dependable farm hand.

Then an angry _Moo!_ and the sound of something, or someone, crashing erased the smile from Dorothy's face. When she heard Jeff's voice make a howl of pain, the girl sprinted for the barn.

The old barn was alive with the clucking of chickens. Two flew out when Dorothy opened the door, but Toto quickly chased them back inside as Dorothy walked in.

"Jeff?" called Dorothy. "Are you in here?"

"That'chu, Dolly?" Jeff groaned. His voice sounded strange, and it had an echo. Dorothy followed the voice behind a mound of fresh straw. Sure enough, lying there was a gangling teenager, with a bucket stuck on his head.

"Oh, Jeff! What happened to you?" asked Dorothy.

"Can ya help take this thing offa me first?" Jeff asked back.

Dorothy hurried to Jeff's side, and helped the farm hand stand. She grasped the sides of the bucket. "Okay, you push, I'll pull," she said. "On three."

Together, Dorothy and Jeff chanted, "One! Two! _Three!_" then they respectively pulled and pushed as hard as they could. Too hard apparently, because the bucket smoothly slid off Jeff's head, sending both of them tumbling into the straw.

While spitting out straw, Dorothy saw that Jeff's usually wild hair was wet with milk, and because of that, the straw was sticking to it. When Toto caught the scent of the milk, he dashed to the teen's face, and started to lick. "Aw, Toto," Jeff laughed with gusto. "Kiss me, don't eat me." Dorothy couldn't help but laugh too.

Once his face was thoroughly covered in puppy drool, Jeff stood up, Toto still in his arms, and turned to Dorothy. "What's the damage, Dolly?" he asked.

"You just need a bath," said Dorothy. "What happened?"

"Well," Jeff sighed. "Ellie, here," – he pointed to the cow – "wanted to let me know that she wants Hank n' Em to get themselves a new farm boy." He laid out his hand to help Dorothy to her feet.

"Are you sure you didn't get too close to her baby again?" the girl asked as she stood up.

Jeff averted his eyes. "Maybe," he muttered. The sight of his red, embarrassed face sent Dorothy into a fresh fit of giggles.

Suddenly, Jeff put his arms akimbo and stomped his foot. "Y'know what?" he exclaimed. "Smells like a barn in here. Let's go into the fresh air." Setting Toto down, Jeff, Dorothy, and the puppy went outside, the teen shutting the barn door behind them.

"So," Jeff said. "What's new? How was school?"

When she heard Jeff's question, Dorothy swallowed hard. Should she tell Jeff about Gulch? This young man was as good as any big brother, but his mouth had a tendency to run like a brand new engine. One hint of bad news, and Auntie Em and Uncle Henry would be listening to a story so thick, that it might as be from Jeff's imagination. _And that won't help me, Toto, or anybody. _

Jeff must have noticed his friend's silence, because he asked, "Dolly, are ya okay?"

Dorothy quickly shook her head. "No, it's just..." She paused. "The May Fair draw was today."

"Oh, ya didn't win?" Jeff asked sadly.

"No," Dorothy murmured. Then, with more voice, she said, "No, I won."

Jeff started bouncing and let out exclamations of joy. "Alright, Dorothy!" He pulled her into a hug, lifting her off the ground. "This is the _best_ news _ever_!" Dorothy remained stiff in her friend's arms, until he took the hint and let her down.

"No, it is _not_!" she retorted. "I get stage-fright, you know I do. And I can't sing!"

Jeff waved his hand and made a _pffft_ sound. "Dolly, nobody can sing when they're nine–"

"Near-ten," Dorothy corrected him. There was no point in being called nine years old if her birthday was a week away.

"Right, nobody can sing when they're _near-ten_," said the farm hand. "The point's that ya look cute, and ya do. Really." This made Dorothy smile, but only for a second. "_And_ the fair's openin' on yer birthday, right?" Jeff continued. "Do ya know how many little girls would eat mud to be a star for their birthday?"

"But I don't wanna be a star for my birthday!" Dorothy declared. "What if I freeze up there, in front of ev'rybody?" Jeff shrugged and scratched his head. After an awkward and long, "Uuuh," Jeff finally said, "Dramatic pause?"

"Jeff," Dorothy groaned and cast her eyes down. No matter his good intentions, the teen never really had been one to give very useful advice. "Can you just make me laugh, or give me some better news?" the girl asked.

Suddenly, Dorothy pointed, and exclaimed, "Wrench!" Jeff halted mid-step and looked down. A monkey wrench was directly underneath his foot. "Whew! That could've been bad." Jeff knelt down and picked the wrench, which he stuffed into his pocket. "So, good news?" he asked. Dorothy nodded slowly.

Jeff softly chanted, "Good news, good news, good news," as he thought. Then his face lit up. "Oh! Me n' Pa heard back from Benny, uh, Benjamin."

"Really? How's he doin'?" Benjamin, as he preferred to be called these days, was Jeff's older brother, who had moved away to New York City two years ago.

"Uh, good. He's good." The farm hand sneered. "Y'know, I don't think he's really readin' our letters."

"Why's that?" asked Dorothy.

"I wrote him about the fair, but he didn't mention it in his letter," Jeff grumbled. "All he talks about is that the city's the best place in the whole wide world, and that he's a big, important Manhattanese Newspaper man now. Dunno what he's writin' for. All the paper's wanna talk about these days is that circus goin' on in Europe."

Dorothy took her friend's hand. "There's prob'ly lots in the city to write about. You said Manhattan's a busy place, right?"

"Benjamin says it is." Jeff shrugged. "No fields. Lotsa people, and huge buildings, though."

Dorothy had only seen 'huge buildings' in photos. She could only imagine how grand they looked in real life. _They can't look that grand if they're all made of ugly grey cement n' concrete. Maybe with some color? Not yellow, yellow's hard to look at. Blue's good, or green._

With the girl's dreamy silence, Jeff was first to speak again. "Sound like a great place, Dolly?"

"I guess. I just wonder what's out there in the world sometimes." The girl stopped walking and looked down, sad. "Sometimes, I feel like I was meant to end up there, instead of out here."

Jeff sighed, then he pulled his little friend into a gentle hug. "Yer 'nother 'Lisa Wonderland,' Dorothy Gale," he said. Dorothy laughed. "You mean 'Alice in Wonderland,' Jeff," she corrected. Jeff shared in the laugh. "Right, her."

Suddenly, the tender embrace was interrupted by Toto's frantic barking. Dorothy and Jeff turned in the direction of the noise, and saw the terrier being chased by a hen! Dorothy screamed her dog's name. The girl and the teen tore after the animals. Dorothy caught the piqued hen, but poor, frightened Toto ran for the farmhouse, and hopped up to the widow sill for safety, upsetting the cooling pie.

"Auntie Em's pie!"

Jeff ran with back bent and arms out. In a nick of time, he stopped the pie from falling. Dorothy let out the breath she didn't know she was holding, set the hen down on the ground, and ran to Jeff and Toto. "Are y'all okay?" she asked.

"Holy sugar beet syrup!" Jeff exclaimed as he stood up, the pie still in his hands. "That was too close." The farm hand glared at the hen. "Billina!" he called. "Yer name should be Bully-na!" The hen clucked an annoyed _Buck-Bugawk!_ back at Jeff, then scratched the ground and walked off.

"She just likes her personal space," said Dorothy. She turned to face the savior of Auntie Em's pie, but then she saw something that made he gasped. The monkey wrench Jeff had put in his pocket had fallen out, and he was moving to put the pie back on the window sill.

"Jeff, look out!" Dorothy called, but it was for naught. Before he could ask what Dorothy was shouting about, Jeff slipped on the wrench, and, when the pie landed on the window sill, his face landed in the pie. Had this been any other pie, Dorothy would have laughed, but as this was Auntie Em's pie, Dorothy covered her gapping mouth in shock. Jeff, shocked as Dorothy, lifted his head from the pie. His face was incredibly red; partly from embarrassment, but mostly from the strawberry-rhubarb filling.

The silence was deafening, until Auntie Em's voice cut through it. "Jefferson Wright!"

Dorothy and Jeff turned to the older woman coming from behind the front of the house. She looked only a second away from bursting with rage. "Oh, my G-Great Aunt Francesca," whimpered Jeff.

"Of all the most clumsy good-for-nothings!" Auntie Em charged up her farm boy, and wagged her finger in his face. "You're lucky I'm not your mother!" The farmer's wife pulled a piece of straw off of Jeff's head, yanking some hair at the same time. "Is this straw comin' out of the barn or your ears?!" she demanded. Jeff just opened and closed his mouth, too frightened of this furious woman to speak.

Auntie Em shut her eyes, and took a deep breath to calm down. She pointed to the water pump. "Go," she ordered Jeff. "Go clean yourself off."

Jeff nodded vigorously, nervously said, "Yessir, uh, ma'am. I meant ma'am," and walked to the pump.

After another deep breath, Auntie Em turned to her niece. "Dorothy," she said. "You n' Toto, come into the house."

Her serious tone made Dorothy nervous. "What's the matter?"

"You'll find out." Auntie Em walked back into the farmhouse.

Dorothy called Toto to her, and scooped him up in her arms. After she entered the house, what the girl saw made her freeze with fear. There, sitting in the parlour with her uncle and aunt, was Gulch and Sheriff Kingsley. Dorothy gulped. "Uh, oh."

* * *

"The simple fact, Mrs. Gale, is that your niece's dog is a menace," said Gulch as she set her teacup and saucer down on the table.

Sitting next to her on the sofa was a very nervous-looking Sheriff Kingsley. He was a big, muscular man, with a thick beard, but next to Almira Gulch, he might as well have been a kitten. Across from them were the Gales. There was only one chair, so Auntie Em sat, and her husband and Dorothy stood beside her. Dorothy, who was still holding Toto, fought the urge to snap at Gulch.

"As a survivor of an attack from the vicious beast," Gulch continued. "It is my duty to the community that he be dealt with properly."

"Miss Gulch," said Auntie Em. "I can assure you that Dorothy is sorry for what happened."

Somehow, Gulch scowl grew more grim. "Oh, no. It is beyond apologies now. Sheriff Kingsley and I are prepared to make sure this menace is destroyed at once!"

The jaws of the Gales fell open. "Destroyed!?" squeaked Dorothy. "No, please!" She turned to her uncle. "Uncle Henry, you can't! You won't, right?" The farmer patted Dorothy on the shoulder and shook his head.

"Doesn't that sound harsh, Miss Gulch?" asked Auntie Em. "We could keep Toto tied up."

"To me, it sounds perfectly reasonable for a dog that bites." Gulch turned to the sheriff, making the large man jump in his seat. "So says the law, does it not, Sheriff?" she asked. Kingsley twiddled his fingers, and said, "Mr. n' Mrs. Gale, if the dog really attacked Miss Gulch–"

"I _was_ attacked, you idiot," snapped Gulch. "Why, I'm all but lame from that bite." The frightened man stared at the floor. Gulch reached into her purse, and pulled out a slip of paper. "This," she said, "is the legal order, allowing me to do with the beast as I choose. You can either give me the animal, or you can go against the law."

Gulch handed the order to Auntie Em, who looked over it with wide eyes. "We can't go against the law, Dorothy," said Auntie Em. Her voice cracked. "It seems Toto has to go."

"What? No!" Dorothy cried. She grabbed Auntie Em's arm. "Please, Auntie Em," Dorothy begged. "It's my fault, not Toto's. Punish me instead." Auntie Em shook her head. "It's out of our hands, Dorothy."

Gulch snorted. "Sheriff, take the dog," she ordered. Kingsley moved towards Dorothy slowly, and the girl held Toto closer. "Please, don't take him away," she begged, almost ready to cry.

Suddenly, Uncle Henry put himself between the sheriff and his niece, and glared at the man. "Coward," he said.

Everyone was shocked to hear Uncle Henry speak. The farmer had lived very much for a man his age, and he had long ago learned to save his words until it really mattered. When Henry Gale spoke, it was always for something important.

When Kingsley didn't even look at the farmer, Uncle Henry hissed, "Say somethin'!" The sheriff just pushed his way passed Henry, and grabbed Toto. The frightened pup whimpered at the stranger's touch. "Stop, you're hurtin' him!" Dorothy cried. The girl tried to pulled her dog away, but Uncle Henry came up behind her and held her arms still. Dorothy looked up at her uncle. His dark eyes were so gentle, but at the same time, they were strong and unyielding. They commanded Dorothy to let go, and she did.

Dorothy watched Sheriff Kingsley put Toto in a basket. Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't stop the tears any longer. With a surge of heartache and anger, she ran upstairs to her bedroom. The heartbroken girl swung the door open, slammed it hard enough to shake the floor, and crawled under her bedspread. Hugging a pillow, Dorothy cried; she wailed and wept the most she had in years. _How could they? Toto's just a puppy, he doesn't deserve this!_

After a minute or two past, and Dorothy's weeping had grow softer, there was a knock on her door. "Dolly?" It was Jeff. "Dolly, can I come in?" "No!" Dorothy shouted. A part of her knew raising her voice at Jeff was wrong, but she didn't want to talk to anybody right now.

Then was a second knock immediately afterward. "Dorothy?" called Auntie Em. "Dorothy dear, we're goin' to town. Do you want anythin'?" _Toto. I want Toto_, Dorothy thought. She started to cry again, but she still heard Auntie Em sigh behind the door. "We're sorry, Dorothy," said the woman. "We really, truly are."_ If you're so sorry, why did you let Gulch take Toto away._

Dorothy heard Auntie Em and Jeff walk down the stairs, then all was quiet, except for her crying.

Eventually, the need for cool air and signs of a headache forced Dorothy to abandon her cocoon of blankets. She wasn't sure how long it had been since Uncle Henry, Auntie Em, and Jeff left, but she didn't remember falling asleep, so it probably wasn't too long ago.

Dorothy went downstairs to get a glass of water for her headache. The pitcher in the kitchen was half-empty, and the water in it had been out too long, but Dorothy couldn't bring herself to care. The puppy she had cared for since his birth in the Wrights' front yard was gone.

The poor girl missed her friend so much, she almost thought she imagined the barking at the door.

"Huh?" Dorothy quickly set the water down on the table, and dashed to the front door. When she opened it a little black bundle of fur bounced into her front. "Toto!" Dorothy picked up her cairn terrier and twirl with him. "You came back! Good boy, you came back!" The puppy yapped with joy and licked his mistress' face. Dorothy could not remember being this happy since Toto had been put into her care ten months ago. However, it did not last, because she realized something awful.

"Gulch n' the sheriff'll be back for you soon." Dorothy held her dog up to her face. "Toto, what're we gonna do?" she asked. Toto whimpered, as if to admit he had no idea at all. Dorothy hugged and petted her dog as she mulled over what to do. When she caught sight of her sun hat, however, the girl got an idea. It was not a very good idea, but it was one nonetheless.

"Toto, we have to run away."

* * *

**Next time on __****Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz**, **while on the road, ****Dorothy has a drink and a heart-to-heart with a carnival man, in**** _The Marvel-less Magician_. I think anyone who knows _Oz: The Great and Powerful_ knows who this carnival man will be.**


	4. The Marvel-less Magician

**The sixth review is in, so here is the third ****chapter of _Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz_, and the last one to be set in Kansas until, as I'm sure everyone knows, the epilogue: _The Marvel-less Magician_.**

**Writing dialogue is much easier than describing actions, so I'm sorry if I sound repetitive anywhere. I welcome constructive ****criticism, just don't be rude.**

**Thank you, Jokermask18, for your continued support.**

* * *

The Marvel-less Magician

Dorothy spent about ten or fifteen minutes denying the inevitable, but eventually, she recognized that her 'not good' idea of running away from home was a bad one.

Even before she left, a problem presented itself: the little girl didn't know what to pack. The only trips she had ever taken alone were ones to and from school. After emptying her book bag of school supplies, Dorothy placed in it a snack, consisting of a small leftover chicken pie, two (washed!) carrots, a jar of strawberry jam, and three oatmeal cookies. Then, she added a pair of scissors, rubber bands, and a photo of her late parents, John and Annie Gale.

With bag in hand, and sun hat hanging from her neck, Dorothy left the Gale farm with Toto. After some thought, the girl decided to move north on the road. If she went the other way, there was a chance of coming across Gulch and Miss Lotta again. However, the north road soon ended. Dorothy and Toto found themselves on the westbound road to town. _I can't go there. Uncle Henry and Auntie Em'll see me._ Dorothy racked her brain for an answer, and remembered the nearby creek.

"If we can't take a road," said Dorothy to Toto. "We'll follow the water. Like the settlers."

The girl and her little dog followed the creek northwest. Three times, Dorothy needed to stop to empty her shoes of pebbles. She stopped a fourth time to sit down, because Dorothy had realized trying to run away was a bad plan.

Feeling very foolish, Dorothy looked at Toto, who was trying to get into the book bag, no doubt for the food. "I guess that's an idea," she laughed. The girl opened the bag, and took out a carrot and the jam jar. She bit the carrot in half, gave a piece to Toto, and dipped the other piece in the jam for herself. No-one else ate carrots this way, but it tasted good and there was nobody around to see, so Dorothy didn't mine.

Munching on the carrot, Dorothy studied her surroundings. The town was visible, but small. She couldn't see the farm, unless it was one of the tiny dots on the horizon.

"Just where are we goin'?" Dorothy asked, mostly to herself, but she knew the answer. There was no place for her but the farm, and she knew no-one who would not tell her to go back. The little girl didn't know what to do.

After swallowing the last piece of strawberry-carrot, Dorothy took out the photo she packed. Uncle Henry kept many photos of his younger brother, John. There were less of his sister-in-law, Annie, but still plenty. However, this particular one held a special meaning to Dorothy.

The old photo was faded and permanently crinkled, but Dorothy could make out most of it easily. Standing before a field of sunflowers, there was a beautiful woman with fair hair, and a tall man with messy dark hair. The couple was somewhat young, and looked very happy. With their four arms, they cradled a little baby in a blanket. Dorothy turned the photo over, and read the written inscription:

_Dorothy,_

_Our gift from God_

_May 1906_

Dorothy felt the prick of tears forming behind her eyes. On instinct, Toto nuzzled his mistress' arm. Dorothy smiled and petted the pup's head. "I wish you could've known 'em, Toto," she said. "They'd never give you away."

Suddenly, a noise made Dorothy jump. It was a horse's whinny. The girl turned away from the creek, and saw a horse and caravan on the next road. She heard a man's voice too, but the words were muffled by the distance. Curiousity took over, and Dorothy went to get a better look.

The lovely caravan, decorated with paintings of stars and the words _The Magical Professor Marvel_, was propped on the road's side with rocks. The powerful-looking horse that was meant to pull it was tied to a small staircase leading to a front door, and sitting on the steps was the man Dorothy had heard. His face was covered by the huge map he was studying.

"It shouldn't be this hard," the man said to himself. "Let's see. We crossed the border, and that detour went north, no, northwest from Wellington." He turned the map sideways. "Then I would be around here, so Wichita must be...upside down!?" With an exasperated cry, "I give up!" he threw the offending paper in the air, then rubbed his eyes. With the map discarded, Dorothy could see the man had a slender frame, windblown dark hair, and a stubbly chin. He wore a showy vest with an otherwise ordinary suit.

Once the man took a calming breath, he saw Dorothy staring at him. The second his eyes caught her, Dorothy's own eyes went wide and she froze in place. "Hey, there," he called with a wave. "Say, uh, you wouldn't happen to know where I am, would you?" the man said, sounding embarrassed.

Dorothy slowly started to walk backwards, but her eyes were still gawking at this man. His head tilted in confusion. "Hello?" he asked. Then the man's face softened into an understanding smile. "Oh, I get it. Can't talk to strangers, right?" He nodded. "Very smart."

The man stood up, still smiling, and walked towards Dorothy. The girl took two quick steps backward and swallowed hard. She would have made more steps, but Toto had sat down. To Dorothy's surprise, the man offered his hand to shake.

"Hello, my name is Frank," he said. "I was born on October ninth in Omaha, but there's not much there besides Nebraskans, so I joined the circus at twenty-four. My favourite color is turquoise, that's a greenish blue, and I'm scared of ghosts and small spaces."

Frank pointed to his horse. "This is Zoroaster. I call him Zoro. He's sort of lazy, but he'll still push or pull whatever you give him."

Dorothy laughed, and shook Frank's hand. "Nice to meet you, Frank. I'm Dorothy Gale."

"Now were not strangers," said Frank. "So, Miss Gale, can you tell where we are?"

Dorothy wasn't sure that this exact spot had a name, so she pointed southwest. (At least, she thought it was southwest.) "Well, if you follow this road for about a mile, you'll get to Conway Springs."

"Conway Springs?" asked Frank. He walked back to the caravan and looked at his map. Then his face fell, jaw and all. "Oh, that's not even on the map!" Frank started to grunt and ruffle with hair with panic, but remembering that he was in front of a child, he quickly gathered himself. "What are you doing out here? Going on a visit?"

Dorothy shook her head and looked down. "No, I'm, er..." She hesitated, but decided to tell the truth. "I'm runnin' away."

Frank's eyes widened, and he sighed a soft, "Oh."

_This is it. He's gonna tell me to run along home. That's what grown-ups say to little kids who don't know anythin'._

But Frank said nothing of the sort. Dorothy looked back up at the man. His eyes looked sad, but he forced himself to smile. "Are you hungry? Or do you want something to drink?"

"Um," Dorothy muttered. She had been preparing to explain why she couldn't go home, so she wasn't sure how to respond to an invitation. "I have a lunch," she said. "But, I guess I'm thirsty."

Frank ushered Dorothy up the stairs, inside the caravan.

There was a little stove, an old couch, a round table with two chairs, and a box bed in the back. In between the household elements, trunks of all sizes were thrown everywhere. Atop some trunks were mechanical thingamabobs Dorothy either had never seen, or couldn't remember the name of. On the poster-covered walls, were shelves full of bottles and fancy little boxes, and hanging on hooks were painted masks, and crafts Dorothy had certainly never seen before. They looked like man-made spider webs with feathers attached.

Dorothy hang her hat on a mask's long nose, beside a shirt on a hook. As she sat down on the couch, (which was surprisingly hard and lumpy,) and Toto sat next to her on the floor, Frank dug through an icebox.

"Let's see, what do I have?" He pulled out a green bottle. "How do you feel about apple cider?" Before Dorothy could answer, however, Frank took a closer look at the label and grimaced. "You know what, forget the cider."

"That's okay," said Dorothy. "I don't like apples that much."

"Really?" Frank said. "Huh, I've never met anybody who didn't like apples."

_Neither have I_, Dorothy thought sadly. To take her mind away from the sorry thought, the girl studied the walls of the caravan. There was a poster with the name, _The Magical Professor Marvel_, like the sign outside. "Excuse me," she said. "Are you Professor Marvel?"

At Dorothy's question, Frank looked at the poster too. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah," he said. Then he continued the search through the icebox. "Well, kind of. I'm not really a professor, and my name's not Marvel. But who's going to go to the circus to see somebody named Frank Marvin put on a magic show."

Dorothy gasped. Did he just say magic show? "You're a magician?" she asked.

Frank pulled two bottles out of the icebox. "Yes. Yes, I am. Resident master of magic and illusions of the Baum Bros. Circus," he explained. "How about some ginger beer with mint syrup. I have to get rid of this anyway."

"That sounds good," said Dorothy. She hadn't had anything resembling ginger beer since last summer. The taste was forgotten, but Dorothy vaguely remembered a bubbly feeling in her throat. Frank found two tin mugs, opened the bottle of beer with a loud _Pop!_ and sizzle, and poured the golden syrup into the mugs, followed by the beer. He handed one to Dorothy, and sat on a chair across from her with the other in hand.

After taking the mug, Dorothy remembered her lunch. She pulled out the oatmeal cookies, and offered one to Frank. "My aunt made these this mornin'," said the girl.

Without further coaxing, Frank happily took a bite of the cookie. "Your aunt has my compliments," he said before he took a swig of beer.

Dorothy took a trial sip of her beer. She almost spat it out in surprise. The refreshing mint-and-ginger taste was stronger than anything she had eaten in a long time, and the bubbles tickled her tongue. It was wonderful.

"I'm told this is supposed to just go down your throat," said Frank. "But I like holding it my mouth."

After a particularly big gulp, Dorothy answered, "I think I do, too." Then she thought of something. Frank had called himself a _resident _of a circus. "Uh, Frank," she said. "Are you in the circus, or are you the circus?"

Frank, understanding the girl's confusion, made an awkward face. "I'm _with_ a circus. We just got separated," he explained. "See, the circus, including me, was supposed to be in Wichita about..." He paused to think. "About yesterday. Two days ago, we were all stocking up in Wellington, but Perry needed to send a telegram. He asked me to go to the office, so I asked my soon-to-be-ex-friend Allen Whitelock to wait for me by the caravan." Frank's calm tone of voice immediately traded for an angry one. "When I got back, all I found was a note with directions. I followed them for about two miles, before I remembered that Allen can't tell right from left. So now, I'm all the way out here with a caravan, a horse, and what I'm starting to suspect is an outdated map."

When Frank finished his story, he exhaled deeply. Dorothy, meanwhile, came to the end of her mental picture of the story.

"That's a lot of bad luck," she said.

Frank shrugged. "I think it'll make a good campfire story someday. So, how about you?"

"I dunno what makes a campfire story good," said Dorothy.

"I mean, what are you doing out here, Dorothy?"

"Oh," Dorothy sighed, sadly. She had almost forgotten. "A neighbor is makin' my aunt n' uncle give Toto away." She motioned to the black puppy on the floor to demonstrate.

Frank offered his hand for Toto to sniff. "Aww, why would anybody want to get rid of this little guy?"

"He bit the neighbor on her leg," explained Dorothy. When Frank tore his hand away in fear, the girl added, "but she started it!"

"What do your parents say?" Frank asked.

Dorothy had been asked questions like this before, thus her answer came like a reflex. "I don't have parents."

Frank's jaw dropped wide open, letting the ginger beer stream back into the mug. Once he collected his wits, he said, "Oh, I am so sorry."

Dorothy nodded. She reached into her bag, pulled out the photo and passed it to Frank. "That's them. When I six, there was an influenza ebit-" Dorothy paused, trying correctly enunciate. "Epidemic, and it took 'em. Then my Uncle Henry n' my Auntie Em brought me to live here at their house."

Frank was studying the photo intensely, as if there was something in it he recognized. "Did you live next to those sunflowers?" he asked.

"Not right next to. It was a walk away, but we loved seeing it," Dorothy recounted. "Daddy put it in my delivery story."

"I'm sorry, your 'delivery story'?" asked Frank.

"Daddy and Mama told me that God put me in that sunflower field when I was a baby, so they could find me," explained the girl. "Makes more sense to me then a big bird. Where does it even get the babies?"

Frank mouthed _Oh!_ and nodded with understanding. "I think that's a nice story, and this looks like a beautiful place to be born," he said with a wide smile. He folded the photo, and returned it. "But, about your aunt and uncle," Frank continued. "Do you like living with them?"

"They dunno that much about kids, and it can get sorta borin'," Dorothy admitted. "But they're all I've got now. I know I shouldn't have left." Dorothy bent down and picked up Toto. As usual, the puppy was perfectly calm in his mistress' arms. "But Toto's my best friend in the world," she exclaimed. "I can't give him away!"

As Dorothy spoke, Frank ate the rest of his cookie and downed his beer. He set his empty mug down on the little round table, then scrunched up his face and breathed deeply. "Dorothy," he said. "I don't think you have a choice, besides go home, and talk to your aunt and uncle. They'd never do anything to hurt you, would they?"

Dorothy held Toto close, and shook her head.

"Then they'll understand. You, the three of you, will find a way to work everything out."

"I dunno..."

This was going nowhere. Frank and Dorothy could both see it. The magician averted his eyes and drummed his fingers on his knee, trying to think. Then his face lit up, and he dashed to the shelves. He searched through a collection of jars, and, from out of one, pulled out a chain of beautiful crystals!

"I'm not suppose to hand out merchandise for free," said Frank. "But I think you could use this."

Dorothy put Toto down, and laid out her palm to accept the necklace. "What is it?" the girl asked.

Frank pulled a second necklace from the jar to fiddle with. "That's an excellent question," he said. "It's either magic good luck stones mined only in the Appalachian Mountains, or it's rock candy on a string."

Dorothy blinked in confusion. She sniffed the crystals, and smelled sugar. She brought a crystal to the tip of her tongue, and tasted sugar. "It's candy," the girl said sadly, as she had liked the idea of good luck stones.

"Are you sure?" asked Frank, as he put the second necklace and jar away. "Magic needs belief to be real, and I should know. If you think they're good luck, chances are they'll be lucky."

"Then why did you tell me it's candy?" Dorothy demanded, annoyed.

Frank's hands curled into fists. "Because lies make everything bad," he said in a low, sober voice. "I've seen the ways lies can hurt, so I promised I'd never lie to anybody, especially not to kids."

_That's not about candy._ "What're you talking about?" asked Dorothy.

"I wasn't always the Baum Brothers' magician," said Frank as he sat back down in his chair. "I started out as the old magician's assistant. Actually, I wasn't much of an assistant. I just carried the bags, drew the curtains, and listened to all the insults he threw at my face."

"He sounds mean," Dorothy said.

The magician shrugged. "I wouldn't say he was mean, per say," he said. "He had big dreams, mostly of fame and fortune, and everything else came second. He lied at the worst times to get ahead, and he never really think about what that did to other people. At least, I didn't see him think about it."

Frank looked sadly down at his tapping fingertips as they clasped. Dorothy had seen this motion before. She knew it meant grief. "Nine, maybe ten, years ago," Frank continued without looking up. "We lost him in a storm. Since I knew every trick in and out, I was promoted to the stage, but I promised to never make his mistakes. I don't make promises based on lies, and I'm telling you the truth about the necklace." He looked up at Dorothy with a small smile. "Which do you want it to be, lucky stones, or rock candy?"

Dorothy returned the smile, albeit weakly. "Good luck stones sound better, I guess," she said.

"Then believe they're good luck," insisted Frank. He stood up and held out his hand. Dorothy gave him the necklace and lifted her braids, so Frank could tie the lucky stones around the girl's neck. "If you believe it's candy, the only good thing they'll be for is a snack."

Dorothy giggled at Frank's quip. She looked at the necklace of colorful sugar crystal, then shut her eyes to concentrate._ These aren't candy, their for luck. Good luck! I'll go home, Auntie Em, Uncle Henry n' me will fix things with Sheriff Kingsley! And wicked ol' Gulch won't do a thing, no she won't!_

Feeling much better, Dorothy drank the last of her mint-ginger beer. She stood up with a bounce in her step and a grin on her face. "I have to go, right now!"

"Yeah, you do," said Frank. He took Dorothy's sun hat from the mask, and tossed it to her with a, "Hat!" Dorothy caught it between her open hands and gave Frank a confused look. "Uh, sorry," the magician muttered. "Random nostalgia."

Dorothy and Toto sprang from the caravan, and immediately regretted it. The winds were now so strong, the little girl could have sworn she almost floated away, had she not have grabbed the thin banister. Her hat almost flew off her head, so she tightened the drawstring to her jaw. With smaller steps, Dorothy started on her way back to the Gales' farm.

"Thanks a lot, Frank," Dorothy called as she waved goodbye. "I hope you get to Wichita soon!"

"Thank you, Dorothy Gale! Remember, belief first, then magic."

The magician watched the girl in pigtails and her little dog make their way home. Then an indignant whinny from Zoroaster caught his attention. The stallion look nervous, with his hooves stomping, and this made Frank nervous. "We'd better get to 'Whatsits Springs,' quick." Frank untied the rope that secured Zoroaster to the caravan side, and started to prepare the harness. "That sweet kid," he muttered to himself. "I hope everything works out."

* * *

The sight of the farm could not come sooner for Henry and Em. The farmer continued to berate himself in his head. All the signs were there in front of his face, but the constant rain for the last weeks had all but blinded him. A twister was on the way, straight from the eastern sky, but thankfully, it wasn't too late.

Surprisingly, considering their older bones, the couple hopped out of their cart. "Henry," said Em, her voice raised slightly to be heard over the howling winds. "I'm gonna get Dorothy an' our things. You pack the cart into the barn, an' met us in the storm cellar." Henry nodded. It was all Em needed to dash for the farmhouse.

The farmer let Holly loose, who promptly ran for the barn. Henry pulled the cart to the frightened hinny and opened the door from him. Despite the alarming moos and clucks, all the animals were huddled together, instead of running around like wild, well, animals. After parking the cart in a corner, Henry tried to shoo the animals outside. When that failed, he counted them instead. All were present and save.

Henry mistook a noise for the wind at first, but soon realized it was his wife, screaming his name as she ran towards him. Em's face was one of absolute panic. Her eyes were wide enough to almost let her eyeballs roll out, and her rapid breaths matched the pace of her heart. Henry knew exactly what she was going to say, before she said it.

"I can't find Dorothy!"

* * *

Toto whimpered and struggled in Dorothy's arms, but the little girl refused to set him on the ground. She feared that her dog's little body would be blown away as easily as a leaf. For that matter, she feared her own little body would be blown away. The winds violently forced her this way and that, while whipping her braids and throwing dirt in her face.

_This isn't just a high wind, what's goin' on here?_

Holding up a free hand to her eyes, Dorothy searched the sky for the source of the storm. On the eastern horizon, she saw a towering, grey cyclone, ripping the sky and land. For the third or fourth time that day, Dorothy was too terrified to move, but she didn't even think of running this time. All she thought was,_ That's a twister! Zounds, that's a twister!_

Dorothy started running, but tried to keep her strides close to the ground. This worked very little, because Dorothy was busy focusing on the dusty devil on her left, which went more or less like this:_ Twister! — What do I do? What do I do?! — Hair in my mouth. Yuck. — A twister's wind, where do you hide from wind? —Underground! The storm cellar!_ Her eureka moment had perfect timing, because Dorothy had just arrived at the farm.

The storm had near flattened the fence posts. Dorothy was forced to let Toto down so she could wrench the gate open. The little dog froze at his mistress' legs. The gate eventually opened, but Dorothy had to evade the swinging mass of wood to move through. Toto tried to follow, but the winds threw him down. Dorothy turned back to pick him up.

A wide door to the storm cellar was found on the ground, next to the farmhouse's back porch. (Which, like the fence, was bending sideways with the wind.) Dorothy tried to open the latch, but the door was shut tight from the inside. The girl dropped to the ground and banged on the door. "Auntie Em! Uncle Henry!" she called. Toto scratched at the door to help.

To Dorothy's great relief, Auntie Em's voice answered. "Dorothy? Sweetheart, is that you?"

Dorothy quickly stood up, ready for the door to her and Toto's safety to open. Unfortunately, the girl heard a troubling sound. It resembled the creaking floors of the farmhouse, but louder. Dorothy turned in the direction of the noise, to the back porch. She saw a support column coming loose under the crooked canopy. With barely enough time to say "Uh, oh," Dorothy grabbed Toto and jumped backwards with a scream, as the column fell on the cellar door.

The little girl scrambled back to the door. She heard knocking, grunts and Auntie Em shouting her name in heartbreaking desperation. Dorothy tried to push the column away, but it wouldn't budge an inch. _I can't get in! Now what?_ Dorothy felt herself starting to panic. _Where do people go in bad weather? Inside! Where inside?_ Dorothy could only think of one place that was always safe to be in: under the bed.

Disregarding Auntie Em's calls, Dorothy, with Toto still in her arms, ran inside through the back door. The farmhouse had always creaked with age, but now it was shaking, and screaming with crashes of everything not bolted in place.

Dorothy and Toto ran upstairs to her bedroom. Her nightstand had been disturbed, and now her little lamp was tiny bits of glass and a puddle of oil. Thank goodness there were no sparks to be found.

Dorothy tossed her book bag under the bed first. She was ready to crawl under herself, but then the window frame came loose and flew across the room long enough to bang the little girl on the head. Dorothy cried out in pain and surprise, but suddenly felt dizzy and cold. She fell down, and landed on something soft. Her bed? Then the creaking, crashing, howling and Toto's barking disappeared along with her bedroom, and Dorothy's consciousness slipped away.

* * *

**Picturing Zach Braff doing Frank's lines really help move it along. I want everyone to know that chose Frank's last name for the meaning, not because it's two ****letters away from Marvel.**

**Next time on __****Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz**, Dorothy makes colourful friends and a dangerous enemy, all in _A Strange New World_.


End file.
